


Karasuno Magica

by CakeMoney, kirabethstar



Series: Haikyuu!! Magic Fest 2016 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Magical Girls, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 22:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CakeMoney/pseuds/CakeMoney, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirabethstar/pseuds/kirabethstar
Summary: “Water!” Kageyama shouted. There was screechy feedback on the mic system.“Earth.” Tsukishima said.“Fire!” Hinata roared. More feedback; Hinata thrust his fist into the air and pretended his ears weren’t ringing.“Air!” Yamaguchi flourished his cape and almost fell over.“Metal!” Yachi lifted up her sword and almost sliced off one of the dangling cameras.“Elements in harmony, we will vanquish the darkness!”





	Karasuno Magica

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a project Kira and I worked on together last year for the [Haikyuu!! magic fest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/hqmagicfest); in the madness of school and doing [that angsty Ennoshita fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8161391), I didn't remember this until way after the event was over, and then ~~I thought I might as well keep it until I one day have run out of inspiration and then post it then~~ here I am, posting this, almost a year later, because reasons
> 
> This AU has absolutely nothing to do with my other magic fest works, except for the magic thing. Kira, it was super fun working on this with you!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Alternate Title: The Power of Teamwork

Finding the Grand King wasn’t hard. In fact, there might as well have been _IT’S A TRAP_ written in the snow along the footprints on the roofs. Were footprints even supposed to last that long? It was still snowing, too, for crying out loud.

Hinata and Kageyama were following the trail, racing across the rooftops, amidst all the pointing and exclamations and camera flashes from the crowd below. Normally they would be even faster, but the heat Hinata naturally emanated and Kageyama’s instinctive counter with his freezing aura were not a great combination, and they were seconds away from slipping right off the roof at any moment.

“Why don’t we have winter uniforms?” Tsukishima wondered out loud. “If these uniforms are meant to last year round, why are they sleeveless?”

Yamaguchi, breathless from the effort of maintaining altitude while carrying Tsukishima in his arms and keeping up with Hinata and Kageyama, managed to grunt in agreement. The cape wasn’t helping. The cape might actually be choking him.

Hinata and Kageyama were still sprinting and hollering, doing a great job of announcing their approach to the Grand King, when the trail ended abruptly. Kageyama managed to freeze his feet in place to stop his momentum, but Hinata went skidding and dropped off the edge of the roof with a yelp and cartoonish flailing.

“Oh no,” Tsukishima said, toneless, as Hinata fell into a pile of snow with a _poof_ , only a few meters away from the waiting Grand King and Assorted Minions. “If only we traveled as a group, and Yamaguchi was close enough to catch him. Why haven’t we thought of this before.”

“Nngh,” Yamaguchi replied.

Oikawa waited for Hinata to tumble out of the snow and fire up his gloves, and for Kageyama to jump with a “you dumbaaaaaaaaaaaass” into the waiting net, to do the outdoor equivalent of villainously spinning around in a big chair with his fingers steepled under his chin. (In short, he turned around.) His cape fluttered dramatically as he flashed his signature smile and said, “I’ve been waiting for you, my dear troublesome idiots.”

And he probably would have said more, if Yachi didn’t come sailing through the air and knock him flat on his face.

“Oh my God,” Yachi half-shrieked, scrambling to her feet. “Oh my God, I’m _so_ sorry! Oh no, I knew I shouldn’t have listened to them, broadswords can’t be used as snowboards, it was so difficult to control—oh my God, Oikawa-san, are you okay—”

And even half a kilometer away from the closest crew (on a helicopter far, far out of Yamaguchi’s blast radius), Tsukishima turned and looked directly into the camera.

“Ugh,” Ennoshita said, speaking to the screen and Tsukishima’s raised eyebrow. “I know, okay? I know.”

 

* * *

 

Shooting scenes outside was significantly more expensive, but Ennoshita had said, repeatedly, that they should not depend on green screens and that the entire reason he casted magical people to play magical girls was for the sense of authenticity. It was what made this show unique, he had explained, when Sawamura was shaking lawsuits and cost projections in his face; people liked the thought of watching something not 60% CGI.

One could argue that he was right, given the show’s ratings; they had a sizable fandom and their merchandise sold well consistently. But one also had to wonder if it was worth it.

The primary actors were ushered into the main tent, wrapped in blankets. Akaashi, the makeup artist, was cleaning off the glitter from Oikawa’s face with one hand and redoing his hair with the other. Three of Yaku’s props staff had dragged in the massive net Oikawa’s minions had used and were defrosting it with hair dryers. Kuroo, the floor manager, was shouting in five different directions at the same time, demanding to know where they left their lighting equipment, where the helicopters were going to land, where Kenma had disappeared off to. Narita, who was in charge of every aspect of the audio—from physically operating the microphones to editing out the background laughter of the crew—might or might not be crying.

Hinata, hair still dripping icy water, quickly rushed to the only heater, thus putting himself squarely in everyone’s way. Yachi hauled her broadsword over to Yaku and almost killed two people in the process. Yamaguchi quickly let one of the costume people take off his cape, and took his first deep breath in almost an hour.

“Wait, wait!” Ennoshita, the director, hurried over. He managed to grab Tsukishima before he could casually disappear. “Don’t change yet! We could still—”

Sugawara, with his amazing radar for when someone’s about to do something ridiculous, materialized over Ennoshita’s shoulder. “We’ve talked about this,” he said sternly. “It is far too cold to try another take, we should just call it a day and work with what we have.”

“Suga-san, please,” Ennoshita begged. He had his puppy dog eyes on, along with his _no one understands my creative genius_ pout, which was pretty impressive considering that Ennoshita’s face had very limited expressive range. “We don’t need more rooftop footage, but we can at least do another shot at the indoor scene, get it closer to the script. I mean, since we’re shooting in this location already…”

Tsukishima made another attempt at getting away; Ennoshita held on.

Sugawara folded his arms, and Ennoshita swallowed; even though nobody knew with certainty what Sugawara’s job in the studio was, his authority was really hard to dispute. “Do we even still have the equipment for—”

“Ennoshita!” Kuroo called. He appeared to have found Kenma, finally, and held Kenma’s hoodie to make sure he didn’t hide in the truck for a nap again. “Bokuto’s found the stuff for the coffee shop scene, he can set it up again if you want.”

“Okay, great!” Ennoshita said, excited, turning towards Sugawara. “This won’t take long, I promise—”

“I’m back!” Yachi looked around them. “Where’s Kageyama-kun?”

They froze.

 

* * *

 

“The Grand King is harvesting negative emotions to make himself stronger,” Kenma recited. He had to stop and push the cat away from his face. “There’s going to be a showing of _Grave of the Fireflies_ tonight at the downtown cinema; it’s part of the promo for Studio Ghibli’s upcoming movie announcement. He’ll probably be somewhere close. You got that, Shouyou?”

“Huh?” was Hinata’s intelligent reply.

Kenma sighed, deeply, and Hinata quickly amended: “Yes! Of course! I—” He paused, trying to remember his lines, but everything came up blank. He turned towards the crew behind the camera. “I’m so sorry, it’s just—”

Ennoshita shook his head and motioned for them to continue, as though there was a way for Hinata to salvage the fact that he had no idea what was going on in this scene. He turned to his teammates, hoping for some help, but they were all staring at Kenma.

Specifically, at his beard.

To this day, it was still unclear why and how Kenma was chosen for the Dispenser of Critical Information role. He wasn’t a bad actor—at least, no more than any of the other main actors—but he certainly wasn’t a notable one, and while in the first few episodes his cat-magnet thing had been funny, it was now getting more inconvenient than anything and there was cat fur on the costumes, on the sets, even on the cameras.

And it looked like there had been minimal effort in making him look the part. They’d bleached his hair (to make him look less like that girl from _The Ring_ , Akaashi had said with his deadpan), but he looked so ridiculous blond that they hadn’t bothered to keep it up, so by this season it just looked like a terrible dye job. And, after some viewer wrote in that “Kenma-kun doesn’t really look like the type of mentor that helps heroes in movies,” Ennoshita had instructed the costume department to give Kenma a long, white, very obviously fake wizard beard that Konoha had found in a closet from some abandoned fantasy production.

It was at moments like these that the audience frowns in doubt, unsure whether or not this should be treated as a satirical work.

“Can you say that again?” Kageyama said. Or he would have said, probably, if he didn’t break off to sneeze violently. He had been lured off last night by fans and their promises of warm milk, and had caught a cold.

Kenma untangled a different cat from the beard and pulled a napkin close. “Here,” he said, drawing a rudimentary tic-tac-toe map and labeling the streets. “Wait here for the Grand King,” he said, putting an _X_ at an intersection. “Okay?”

“Kozume-san,” Yachi whispered urgently, seconds before the annoyed cat reached up, hooked its claws in Kenma’s beard, and yanked it off his face.

“Cut!” Ennoshita called. “Okay, that’s good.”

“Even with that last part?” Tsukishima asked. At this point it was unclear if this show had a script at all, or if Ennoshita was just making stuff up on the fly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ennoshita assured him. Behind him, Kuroo had already started shouting again. “Someone get the cats out before all the props are destroyed!”

 

* * *

 

“Please welcome—Karasuno Magica!”

Akaashi let Kageyama’s face go, finally satisfied with the eyeliner, and all five run onstage to thunderous applause.

“Water!” Kageyama shouted. There was screechy feedback on the mic system.

“Earth.” Tsukishima said.

“Fire!” Hinata roared. More feedback; Hinata thrust his fist into the air and pretended his ears weren’t ringing.

“Air!” Yamaguchi flourished his cape and almost fell over.

“Metal!” Yachi lifted up her sword and almost sliced off one of the dangling cameras.

“Elements in harmony, we will vanquish the darkness!”

They held their signature squad pose while fans screamed and two attempted to climb onto the stage. When the music had stopped, Yachi lowered her arms and almost dropped the sword into the audience. Publicity events with live audiences were almost always hazardous.

“Thank you for coming,” the host said, chuckling uncomfortably, as everyone quickly found their seats. “It’s always a pleasure to have you with us.” Her eyes said something along the lines of _They don’t pay me enough for this_.

“The pleasure is all ours!” Yachi assured her quickly, holding the sword behind herself as though she could hide it. “We love being on… here!”

“I’m glad,” the host said with a flat voice that rivalled Tsukishima on his most exhausted days. “And I know everyone in the audience has been looking forward to getting you to answer their most popular questions! Your fans have been submitting and voting on questions for the past week. Let’s get started! Tsukishima-kun.”

“Present,” Tsukishima said, looking like he knew what was coming.

The host looked down at her notes, looked up like she couldn’t believe her life had come to this. “The most popular question by far is about you. Everyone wants to know—” A moment of indecision on her face, and then resignation. “Are you still a virgin?”

When the show had just started and actor engagement with fandom had been fairly unregulated, someone had asked on Twitter why the Karasuno Magica members were given these powers. Magical powers weren’t rare, exactly, but they were still a niche part of the population, and most don’t have themes like elements or colors.

That came up in an interview, and the host—far more enthusiastic than this one, understandably—had picked Tsukishima to interrogate.

_Tsukishima-kun, why do you think you were given these powers?_

Tsukishima had looked straight into the camera—he would eventually become known for this—and replied: _I don’t know. Because I’m a virgin?_

“Yes,” Tsukishima didn’t so much say as he sighed. “Yes, I am still a virgin.”

 _I regret all the choices I have made in my life that led me to this moment_ , his eyes said. The host looked back at him and her eyes said: _You and me both, son_.

They let the fans scream their hearts out before the host took a deep breath and, acting as though the past few minutes didn’t occur, said: “Kageyama-kun, could you tell us more about your hair?”

Kageyama scowled. “My hair?”

“Yes.” The host seems aware that she’s digging herself into a hole, but she’s also paid to be here. “Do you have a haircare routine? What products do you use?”

Despite always being the target for grooming questions whenever Oikawa wasn’t a part of the program, Kageyama still didn’t have any planned responses. There was a beat of silence before the teleprompter behind the audience clicked on. “I don’t really do anything special,” Kageyama read, frowning at the glowing text. “It just looks this way naturally.”

The host nodded, as though they were having an actual conversation. “Did you always have this haircut? Would you ever consider styling your hair differently?”

Kageyama, before anyone could stop him, said, “But Akaashi-san said my ‘sexy anime bangs’ are an asset?”

They all looked at him. Sugawara, offstage, punched Akaashi in the ribs.

“Hinata-kun,” the host continued, mercifully moving on. “Some viewers want to know how your gloves work.”

“Oh! Yeah!” Hinata exclaimed. Even after all this time, he was still easily flattered by attention. “They were invented especially for me! It’s metal and _super heavy_ and it has pipes that channel the flames from my palm, like this—”

It happened so quickly. One moment Hinata was proudly showing off his gloves; the next, his chair was on fire, Yachi’s chair was on fire, the carpeted floor was on fire, and there was loud screaming in every direction. The host looked up at the ceiling with a _Why me?_ expression.

“Hinata, you dumbass!” Kageyama shouted, waving his staff.

The last thing the audience saw was a towering tsunami rising up behind the stage.

 

* * *

 

“Last year we got to film an onsen episode,” Hinata complained.

“If someone didn’t accidentally rip up all the water pipes,” Tsukishima pointed out, pulling on the swimsuit. He straightened. “And anyway, I don’t ever want to be in the same pool as you again. We almost _died_.”

“Why,” Yamaguchi started; paused, wondering if this was a line more suited for Tsukishima; went ahead and said it anyway: “Why are we shopping for swimsuits in January?”

They were filming a filler episode. The fillers in the first couple seasons were better written and had better sponsors; actually, the show was much more organized in those first seasons, probably because that was about as far as Ennoshita had planned and had expected it to last. They had a beach episode, and a cultural festival, and then the aforementioned onsen, but it’s really been going downhill from there—a water gun fight that led to waves of innuendo on social media, the summer festival one that eventually ended with three booths on fire, and now this. Shopping. In the mall.

“Because it’s been too long since the fans last saw you shirtless,” Akaashi said, working on Kageyama’s eye makeup. It was always hard to tell if Akaashi was joking or not. “I’ve seen the charts. Data doesn’t lie.”

“Akaashi,” Sugawara said, warningly, and Akaashi shut up, which was kind of a rare thing. Current prevailing opinion, after the rumor about him being Sawamura’s spy on set was disproved, had it that Sugawara was the liaison for corporate sponsors and angel investors. “Certain companies paid for a lot of screentime for their products, that’s all.”

“But why is he here?” Kageyama asked and pointed at Oikawa. Akaashi shushed him.

“Well, my adorable kouhai,” Oikawa explained, holding his arms up and winking directly at the camera. He was wearing a long coat over the swimsuit, which was a disaster in and of itself. “It would hardly be fanservice if I wasn’t here, would it?”

It was true that Oikawa was the only actor that was even remotely known before this show aired, and also probably true that a significant portion of the show’s first viewers had primarily been Oikawa’s fans. He had his own manager—Iwaizumi, who was currently standing at the edge of the studio and scowling—and his involvement had brought more sponsors and specialists than this show could probably have gotten on its own.

“Is it really necessary to have glitter all over him?” Tanaka, who headed the camera crews, asked. “And the demon horns. I mean, there’s no magic in this episode—”

“Yes,” Oikawa and Akaashi both snapped.

“All right, all right,” Tanaka grumbled. “Magical squad, you’re up. We’re taking some extra pictures for the photo collection next month while we’re at this.”

Kageyama and Hinata posed together for a few shots, and then with Yachi. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi leaned against each other. Hinata had some by himself, as the fan favorite, with his foot on a chair to show clearly the brand logo on the side of the trunks. Yachi got a few shots by herself, with her sword. Then they took their classic squad picture.

“There’s a dating sim with you guys in the works, apparently,” Oikawa said. “Must be exciting. I remember when I first had a game made based on me.”

“You cried for half an hour,” Iwaizumi supplied.

“It sold super well,” Oikawa said, ignoring Iwaizumi. “I think they’re making an app version now. Well, I’m sure you might get that popular, too, someday.”

“Oikawa-san,” Kinoshita said. “Your coat tag was showing in the pictures; we’ll have to redo them.”

 

* * *

 

“We are not going to build an actual train, Bokuto,” Sawamura, the producer, said. “That is final. It’s not going to happen. No, and no, and still no.”

“But think about it!” Bokuto begged. He pushed the design sketches closer towards Sawamura, as though that would convince him. “Every superhero show needs a fighting on the roof of a train scene. That’s just, like, basic genre requirements.”

“This is magical girl, not superhero,” Sawamura pointed out. “Different genres. And besides, we most certainly do not have the budget for this.”

Bokuto was in tears. “But—but Ennoshita said,” he sniffled. “Ennoshita! Please, tell him! This train would look so awesome!”

Ennoshita, sitting at his corner desk, didn’t seem to hear him. Or anyone, actually. He had his face buried in a pile of papers. There were six empty coffee cups in a line.

Narita patted him on the back as he passed and sat down at his adjacent desk. “Are you okay, Chikara?”

“Futakuchi came by again,” Ennoshita said to his storyboard drafts.

“Yeah, what did he want?”

“More money, mostly,” Ennoshita said. Date Kou was a middling law firm headed by an anxious but well-meaning guy named Moniwa. Apparently Futakuchi, one of the firm’s lawyers, and Ennoshita had went to college together, so Ennoshita called upon them often for legal advice regarding copyright infringement, property damage, and so on. When Narita snorted, Ennoshita sighed and continued. “Some guy whose house showed up in the last episode is threatening to sue for, I don’t know, invading his privacy. If we don’t reach some kind of settlement and it goes to court, it’d be really bad publicity. Or something, I don’t know. Daichi-san said a lot.”

Narita put his headphones on. “That doesn’t sound as bad as—well. Everything else that this production has been sued for.”

Kinoshita, on Ennoshita’s other side, looked up from designing the graphics. “I mean, if you think about it, the fact that this show exists at all is a miracle.”

It was true; in fact, this production’s defining feature seemed to be the amount of litigation it faced. The show’s name was changed four times before it was even aired (past candidates included Sailor Ball, Shadowhunters, and Miraculous Elements; honestly, many people were relieved that these were shot down), and then when complicated deals were struck for the name Karasuno Magica, Tsukishima actually threatened to quit, because _I’m the one with the yellow uniform, I know what happened to Mami_. After the entire fiasco settled and the first few episodes were released to moderate success, the studio was almost forced to take them down because some viewers felt “cheated” that something listed as a reality TV show would have fabricated events (“That’s how shows work! That’s how shit is filmed!”). At this point, Ennoshita would feel strangely anxious if there _wasn’t_ a pending lawsuit, as though he was about to be blindsided at any moment.

“Ennoshita,” Sugawara said, appearing right behind Ennoshita and almost making him spill his latest cup of coffee. “I heard,” he said cheerfully as Ennoshita attempted to calm his racing heart, “that Futakuchi said something about some guy worried about his privacy?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Ennoshita started.

“So I’m thinking,” Sugawara continued as though Ennoshita hadn’t even spoken. “We really ought to decrease the risk of these things; I’m talking to Kuroo about rescheduling some of next week’s filming to make them mostly done indoors. Would you be okay with that?”

Kinoshita and Narita suddenly found their laptops incredibly interesting. Ennoshita knew he didn’t stand a chance. “Yeah,” he squeaked. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Sugawara smiled, and Ennoshita let out a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding. “Great!” He clapped Ennoshita on the shoulder, so hard Ennoshita almost spilled his coffee again. “We’ll talk more when the schedule’s finalized,” he called over his shoulder as he headed off to speak to Bokuto.

 

* * *

 

“Okay,” Ennoshita said to Hinata, who was sitting in front of the green screen. “Right now, you’re in the middle of fighting the Grand King, and he has unleashed his Shadows to use your greatest fears against you. How do you feel?”

“I’m not afraid of him!” Hinata shouted.

“Yes, okay, but you’re afraid of something,” Ennoshita explained patiently. Personal interviews are one of the hallmarks of reality TV; Ennoshita was a firm believer of contrived performance as an elevated form of authenticity, which made no sense as a phrase to anyone else in the studio. “What are you most scared of?”

“Uh.” Hinata’s voice became very small. “Being surrounded by really tall people, I guess? In a bathroom?”

Tanaka, off behind the camera, burst into laughter.

“My greatest fear?” Yachi floundered for a bit; it was like standing in the middle of a giant hotel buffet and not knowing which direction to go in. “Uh, I guess, my sword? Dropping my sword on myself? It's so heavy, and nobody else could lift it so I'd just die! Oh my God! What if that happens? That would be so embarrassing!”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Kageyama said with a completely straight face. Ennoshita didn’t try to fight this one.

“We are past the winter solstice and are approaching spring,” Kenma said. He paused to lift a cat from his head. Ennoshita mouthed _Where did that cat come from?_ to Tanaka, who shrugged. “His powers will be on the decline. Because of this—hold on—” he untangled the cat’s claws from his beard and gently set the cat on the floor. “Because of this, he’s trying to store as much negative energy as he can. Like preparing for hibernation, except the other—Can someone take some catnip or something and lure the cats away? It’s really hard to focus—ow, Kuroo _help_ —”

“I’m so glad you asked!” Oikawa gushed, even before Ennoshita had a chance to say anything. “Of course, I had thought of using their greatest fears against them before, but that’s kind of an Ultimate Power, you know? Like not boss level, but pretty close. So if I had used it too early, and they overcame it, they would learn from it and would be able to fight back next time. I have to hit them when they’re vulnerable, you know?”

Ennoshita opened his mouth to say something. Oikawa didn’t even pause to take a breath.

“Of course, my beautiful, loyal fans would all be worried that they can defeat this and I would be out of moves, right?” Oikawa winked at the camera and did some pretty cringe-worthy finger guns. Someone made a gagging sound. “But there’s nothing to fear! My powers are always growing, and I’ll have new ways to defeat them before they could even get back on their feet! Darkness—” he pulled out the plastic prop skull that Iwaizumi was supposed to have locked up somewhere “—will always win.”

“Okay, cut,” Ennoshita quickly interrupted. “Thank you, Oikawa-san. Tsukishima, you’re next!”

 

* * *

 

They were a heap of tangled limbs, except for Tsukishima, who sat on the ground because _I don't need Hinata’s feet in my face_. The filming for the day was over, but they weren’t going home yet—usually Shimizu and Azumane, their bodyguards, drove them home later at night to avoid paparazzi or fans—so, to prevent them from being underfoot while the staff cleaned up, Sugawara sent them to the couch in the corner and put on their own show.

“Stop moving, dumbass,” Kageyama muttered, hunched over Hinata’s hand.

“You’re holding too tight,” Hinata protested, but he stopped wiggling.

Akaashi had lent them the costume nail polish before he left, with the accompanying warning of _don’t use too much, Sawamura-san will dock it from your pay_. Hinata, the nail polish enthusiast, had painted everyone’s nails (despite Tsukishima’s limited resistance), and had demanded Kageyama do his, too.

“OH NO!” Nishinoya’s voice came from the TV. “HINATA HAS BEEN CAPTURED! HOW WILL THE TEAM FUNCTION WITHOUT HIM?! WHAT WILL KAGEYAMA DO WITHOUT HINATA AS A COUNTER CONTROL?!”

“I feel like I’m actually watching a soccer game,” Tsukishima remarked, picking up one of the cookies sent by their fans. Nishinoya only came into the studio occasionally, to talk over the action in each episode; most of the time he was a sports commentator, which bled into almost all of his voice acting jobs. The viewers frequently had to wonder if his narration was meant to be taken seriously.

“Oh my God, remember when that happened?” Hinata laughed. “I sprained my leg and had to use crutches for a week. They had to ask Shibayama-kun to act as a stunt double, and then _he_ almost sprained his leg.”

Yachi and Yamaguchi had started laughing along, but trailed off awkwardly. “Yeah, I remember,” Tsukishima said, in his _are you serious_ voice. It was pretty effective, even with his mouth full. “Especially the part where you also got a concussion and was in the hospital.”

It was silent, except for Nishinoya’s “OOOOOOOOH! DID YOU HEAR THAT? _DID YOU HEAR THAT?_ _WHAT_ A _BURN_!” Tanaka’s laugh could be heard, even though this should have been recorded in the soundproof booth. “WE’RE GOING TO NEED SOME ICE HERE!”

“Wait, is that Kenma?” Hinata blurted and pointed, despite Kageyama’s muttered swear. “He’s right there! Yachi-san!”

“I’ve got it!” Yachi held up her phone and took a picture. Kenma’s tendency to find random places for naps and emerge on set at inappropriate times became a fandom joke; Sugawara, never one to miss a marketing opportunity, immediately pushed for an easter egg giveaway contest—the first five to send in pictures of Kenma in the background of the action scenes were eligible to receive Karasuno Magica merchandise.

“At this point I have to wonder if Kinoshita-san just photoshops Kenma into random parts of the episode,” Tsukishima said, as Kenma seemed to take stock of his situation and then climb back under the table.

“We got it!” Yachi cheered. “We were fourth, our prize is a Grand King keychain.”

Everyone made a face. “I don’t want a keychain of _him_ ,” Kageyama grumbled.

“Let’s throw it to Oikawa’s fans and watch them fight over it,” Tsukishima suggested, and Yamaguchi smacked him. “Or,” he added, smirking, “We make Iwaizumi-san, Hanamaki-san, and Matsukawa-san arm-wrestle for it.”

“I bet Iwaizumi-san wins,” Kageyama said quickly.

“No one would bet against him,” Yamaguchi protested.

 

* * *

 

“There you are!” Hinata shouted dramatically, pointing at the Grand King. “You won’t get away with this!”

“Who said I’m trying to get away?” Oikawa asked, doing his fluttering-cape turn again. Ennoshita made a note to talk to him about that. “You’re just so easy to trick, chibi-chan. It makes my job boring.”

“He’s not being tricked!” Kageyama shouted, and Oikawa turned, eyes wide. “You are!”

“Oh, please, you think you’ve surrounded me?” Oikawa laughed, his hands on his hips. “Do you think I’m that stupid?”

“We’ve captured all of his minions!” Yachi called, emerging from the alley. Tsukishima followed her, dusting his hands, his hammer tucked under his arm. “They were hiding on the roof, but we found all of them.”

“See?” Hinata exclaimed triumphantly. “We’ve caught you!”

Oikawa laughed again, but it rang a little hollow. “You’re so delightfully stupid,” he said. “But even the four of you can’t possibly defeat me. I am the Lord of Darkness! I will never be contained!”

“How about this?” Yamaguchi shouted, jumping down from the roof; he ripped his cape off and flung it over Oikawa’s face, blinding him. As he landed he whipped out his fan.

A number of things happened then: among the crew there were panicked whispers of _shit is he actually doing it_ , _protect the cameras!_ , and _goddammit we’ve told him not to actually use the fan_ ; Tsukishima’s eyes widened, and he grabbed Yachi, dropped to the ground, and covered their heads; Kageyama raced across the set to tackle Hinata out of range, because the last thing they needed was fire; Ennoshita dropped his face in his hands and held onto his hat.

Oikawa got the cape out of his face and had just enough time for a deer in the headlights _wow I’m fucked_ expression before Yamaguchi waved the fan.

“Inconceivable!” Oikawa shrieked as he was flung into the sky by a massive gust of wind and became a mere speck in the distance. Ennoshita had to give it to him; cheesy and embarrassing as he was, Oikawa was still pretty good at staying in character and improvising in the face of unexpected possibilities of sudden death.

“Yeah!” Yamaguchi shouted, and high-fived everyone as they got up off the ground. He loved his cape. If he ever found it again.

“Yeah,” Tsukishima repeated, and looked straight at the camera, which Tanaka had held onto for dear life. “The power of teamwork.”

**Author's Note:**

> **Bonus:**
> 
> Oikawa: *goes flying*
> 
> Nishinoya: GOOOOOAAAAAAAL!!!
> 
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://cakemoney.tumblr.com) or check out [kira's awesome blog](http://kirabethstar.tumblr.com)!


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